The Summer of Singing Cicadas
by xblkdragonx
Summary: China is giving serious consideration to cutting his hair after being told it makes him look like a girl. Russia is vehemently opposed to the idea, and decides to convince his lover that he's manly and that his hair is too pretty the snip off.


Although sometimes it was unbearable in Russia, summer was usually a pleasant time of year. When July came, the temperature would soar in Moscow, but luckily it never lasted for long; in a blink of an eye, July would come and go. However, no matter how hot it got up north, it couldn't compare to the stifling heat of southern China. Bemused by such thoughts, Russia laid his head back against the apricot tree.

Even under the shade, there was simply no escape from the damn humidity. Perspiration dampened his face and body; his clothes clung to him like a second skin. As sweat continued to roll down his neck and disappear beneath his scarf, Russia chuckled weakly at his own misery before finally removing it from defeat.

Maybe his surprise visit to China was a bad idea after all. This whole track-down-Yao-so we-could- play-on-the-beach was looking worse and worse the longer he sat out here. While other couples around the world were enjoying their fun in the sun- swimming in the ocean, frolicking in the sand- he was here, alone in the middle of nowhere. The closest city to this godforsaken farming village was at least six hours away. By the time the taxi dropped him off at the side of the road, it was already late afternoon.

Truth be told, China had not invited him. In fact, the Chinese nation did not even tell him where he was. What China was doing in this rural place and why he was here, Russia had no idea. However, he could always tell where his little lover was. Just thinking about the smaller man, his skin would tighten and his heart would race. The closer China was, the worse his symptoms got. Russia recognized it for what it was. It was a sickness- a nauseating, deadly sickness. It would nag at him; the itch growing worse by the day if he did not satiate his body's need to hold China- to embrace him and kiss him senseless.

It was thanks to this condition of his that he knew even before he stepped out of the car where he should go. Instead of heading towards the cluster of homes behind him, Russia took a step forward; his eyes set on the dainty, lonely house at the end of the dirt road.

Walking on the unpaved path, gravel crunched beneath his feet. With each step he took, the dreary grey house drew nearer. When the house was finally close enough for him to examine, Russia could tell it had been abandoned for quite some time. The plants in the yard were allowed to grow unchecked and the wood for the chicken coop had long since rotted away. From the outside, tiny cracks lined the concrete wall. One of the windows was even missing, hastily patched by a wooden board as a replacement. Russia cocked his head, wondering why China would want to stay here. Even though the village houses he saw earlier were more than likely made of wood and brick, it was better than this attempt at a modern monstrosity. It offered no comfort, no space. Despite being two stories high, the place was small with the ground floor being no bigger than one bedroom.

Russia shrugged his shoulders, not really caring for the reason. As long as there's running water, a bed, and China's warm body, they could be in a Sahara desert and he would still consider it paradise. He knocked on the door, waiting for an answer. When none came, he invited himself in.

Pitch black darkness greeted him. His violet eyes pierced through the shadows as he searched for China, but the room was small like he thought. One gaze was enough to tell him the Chinese nation wasn't here. The first floor was empty. Maybe he was upstairs instead?

"Yao?" Russia called out as he climbed up the stairs to check.

Light spilled from the opened window into the scantily furnished second floor. Only a drawer and narrow bed decorated the room. A stack of clothes neatly piled on the foot of the bed indicated China was indeed temporarily staying here, but the man in question was nowhere to be seen. Russia sighed; dejected that he just missed seeing the other nation. From the looks of things, China wasn't home and wouldn't be back for quite some time.

Which was why Russia was currently sitting outside of China's home baking like a potato as he waited for him to return. It took awhile, but Russia finally understood what China meant when he told him to stop invading his privacy. Russia always thought it was China's way of flirting; it was his shy, Chinese way of saying 'I want to become one with Russia." The last time the Russian invited himself in without permission, China showed him "stop invading my privacy" really meant "stop invading my privacy" with his bare hands. When honed for over couple of millenniums, bare hands could be quite… persuasive as Russia found out the painful way.

A light breeze blew over Russia's face, rustling his hair and the leaves above him. Sweat cooling against his skin, he sighed from the brief relief the wind gave him. Of all places, China just had to be here: a place with no electricity, no air conditioner. No sign of modernity beside the pathetic cement house in front of him. As far as the eye could see, fields of rolling grass covered the mountain side. He wiped his face with the end of his scarf, gazing at what laid beyond those mountains. A feeling akin to yearning tickled his heart as he thought of chilled martinis and cold showers waiting for him back in the city.

Teasingly, the wind tickled his cheeks again. The blades of grass swished and swayed before him, dancing in tune with the breeze. Watching the stalks bend and turn under his lashes, he took a deep breath of fresh air passing him by. He felt as if his lungs were being cleansed. There was no smoke, no smog here. He only took in the scent of wet dirt and- Russia smiled- a hint of faraway citrus.

"Where did that come from," he wondered, closing his tired eyes.

Out in the distance, he could hear the cicadas sing their mating song. Birds flew over head- the fluttering of their wings briefly joined the sounds of the cicadas, but after a few steady heart beats, they were gone. Miserable as he was, Russia found himself listening dimly to the sweet, quiet melody of the summer season.

Perhaps this place wasn't so bad after all….

This would be a perfect place to take a nap, Russia thought. He could rest his eyes for a few minutes as he waited for China right? He never knew hot weather could make a person feel sluggish. Russia was so sleepy. He could feel his body slowly become heavy and lethargic. Ah…he didn't want to move. All he wanted to do was take a nice cold bath and sleep the rest of the day away. Tired….He was so…tired….

"Ivan, if that's you dying in front of my house aru, do it somewhere else. I don't want to deal with burying your fat body," China said briskly as he walked passed Russia and into his home; the door slamming loudly behind him.

Russia raised a questioning eyebrow. "Why yes, Yao, I missed you too."

Dusting himself off, the Russian calmly followed the smaller man inside. His stoic expression remained unchanged even as he found China frantically darting to and fro the room, growling under his breath.

"Scissors! Where are the damn scissors aru!" China yelled, overturning another cabinet.

"What happened?" Russia asked without much interest. He sat down and poured himself a cup of lukewarm tea. "Maybe I could help you if you told me what's-"

"I'm chopping my hair off aru!"

Russia dropped his cup, staring wide eyed at the furious Chinese.

"I'm cutting every last strand until it's up to my eye aru!" China continued shouting, "And when I get back to Beijing, I'm going to shave myself bald. I'm sick of it aru! I'm sick of my hair!"

"Wha-what?" Russia could only stammer at China's abrupt announcement, "Why are you going to cut your hair? Your hair is beau-"

China slammed his fist on the table, causing the cups and teapot to rattle. "That's exactly _why_ aru! People keep thinking I'm a woman!"

Russia smiled. So that was it. "Yao, people always thought you were a girl when they first meet you. It's nothing new."

"Nothing new? Do you know what happened today aru? Do you?" China sputtered from anger, "I went to talk to the village chief today about renovating his lands and you know what he told me?" The slender man grabbed Russia's coat and lifted him up from his seat. "He told me that women should not butt their noses into men's business aru. When I told him I was a man, he dared….He dared call me a_人妖 __(_rén yāo)! A transvestite* aru!"

China threw Russia back down on chair, turning around to rummage for a pair of scissors. "I'm a man damn it! I shouldn't have to take that kind of crap aru."

"Yao, you shouldn't pay attention to these country folks." Entertained by China's unusual but amusing behavior, Russia chuckled. "You know how backward they are. I think men having long hair are in nowadays?"

"I don't care!" China finally pulled out a pair of scissors. "I'm cutting it! I'm cutting everything off aru!"

Now Russia knew China was serious. "Wait, Yao! Don't! I love your hair. Don't cut it."

China scoffed, the scissors poised to cut his ponytail at the root. "You only like my hair long aru because it makes me look like a woman! Don't think I don't know, _Russia_. Aren't you the one who always describes me as pretty and dainty? Just like a girl? Well I'm not! I'm not a woman damn it!"

As few strands of dark hair fell to the floor, Russia rushed to China's side and wrested the scissors away from him.

"Give it back aru!" China demanded, standing on tiptoes to reach for the scissors held above his head. "You can't stop me! I'll get rid of my hair one way or another aru!"

"Yao, will you listen to me for a moment?"

"Why should I?"

The pair of clippers clattered to the floor as Russia tossed it carelessly behind him. Before China could rush to retrieve them again, he pinned the older nation to him. China struggled, but he just held him even tighter in his arms. Their heavy breathing the only sound in the room, they stood immobile- one angry, the other desperate.

For a long time, Russia held China against him. Relentlessly, he ran his large hands up and down China's back, soothing all tense muscles and knots he felt. China tried to hold onto his anger and feeling of righteous fury, but the hands massaging his back were too skilled. Laying his head upon Russia's shoulder, he took a deep calming breath and sighed.

"Have you regained your senses yet?" Russia said, kissing the top of his head.

"No aru," China replied stubbornly, "There's no reason for me to have hair this long. It's about time I cut it anyway aru."

Russia was silent. His eyes were miles away as he watched his fingers thread through China's silky hair like fish through water. "Yao, can I tell you something? A secret on why I prefer your hair long?"

"Don't tell me it's because you like pulling on it aru?" China's voice dripped with sarcasm.

"I'm afraid not." The Russian bent his head until his lips tantalizingly brushed against the curve of China's ear. Hot breath coupled with the humid air, he whispered to China his secret. "Did you know, ever since the first time we made love, your long, soft hair has always fallen gently on my face?" Russia tugged free China's hair from its band, admiring the way the lustrous hair draped across the other nation's back. His tongue found a strand and brought it to his lips. He followed it, traveling lower and lower, leaving wet trails of kisses down China's neck.

"Your hair is softer than your breath when it touches my bare shoulders," Russia quietly murmured against the racing pulse he found on China's slender collarbone. He lifted his head and met China's eyes. "Even when you don't tell me you love me, this sweet titillation of yours makes me feel loved. This is why I would be happy if you left your hair long."

Embarrassed hearing Russia's confession, China looked away. "I…I still don't want to look like a girl aru. Cutting my hair won't change how I feel about you."

"I…suppose not," Russia conceded. Perhaps a little too easily, China felt. He watched Russia from under his lashes and found the Russian gazing at him with a contemplative expression in his eyes.

"What is it aru? What are you thinking?"

"Well...I was thinking, you only want to cut your hair because the stupid man questioned manhood. What if I have a way of reassuring you you're a man in every way?" Russia gave him a wink. "A way to prove yourself if you will."

"What do you mean?" China asked.

"I mean," Russia grinned devilishly, "like in bed."

"You-" China began to say, but the words were knocked right out of him when the larger nation tossed him over his shoulders. Up the stairs they went; the strained floorboards creaking with their combined weight.

Russia threw him onto the narrow bed, his heavy body crushing the smaller body beneath him.

"What do you think you're doing?" China screamed.

"You wanted to prove that you're a man," Russia responded, his attention fully on China's clothes. His nimble fingers made quick work of the other man's belt and soon even China's trousers joined the belt on the floor. "What better way than to prove it with me?"

His earlier anger returning with full force, China dug his fingers into Russia's skull and yanked hard. "You think having another man's dick shoved up my ass is going to make me feel like a man? That's your great idea aru? You fucking me?"

Russia slammed his mouth hard onto China's to shut him up. The kiss had no hint of a lover's reunion. No sweetness. No adoration. It was vicious and violent- every bit animalistic as they snarled and nipped at one another. Nails raked along backs as if to draw blood. Hands tore at clothes to get at the succulent body underneath.

Always. Always China refused to have sex willy nilly. It had something to do with Confucius or Daoism, Russia couldn't remember. Nonetheless, after all these years, he learned a few things. He knew which buttons to press to drive China into a corner. When push came to shove, China poured his heart into winning and gave it all he's got.

Russia hummed his pleasure as he felt the other nation's arousal grind against his; their burning heat only separated by Russia's own bothersome jeans. Breathing heavily, he broke off the kiss. "No."

China- still blinded by lust- growled at being denied his feast. "No? What do you mean no? You were the one who started this!"

"My little Yao," Russia said with a lilt to his voice, "you really need to let people finish what they're saying."

Russia silently laughed at the fiery amber eyes glaring at him. "I was answering your question when I said, 'No.'"

Confused, China furrowed his brows. "What question aru?"

Hands on either side of the Chinese's head, Russia loomed over China, laughing. "No, my plan isn't for me to do you. It's something else." The Russian slowly slipped down the other's body- kissing his shoulders, caressing his chest. Violet eyes dared China to look away, enticed him to keep staring.

As Russia unbuttoned his shirt, China shivered. Not from the cold, oh no. The air was much too hot and humid for him to be chilly. Goosebumps dotted his arms when Russia's tongue darted out to lick away the dirt and sweat on his stomach.

"My great idea," Russia continued from what he said before, his hands skimming the outline of China's thighs, "is letting you- as you so eloquently put it- fuck me."

No. China was most definitely not quivering from the cold at all….

Instinctively or simply out of habit, China's eyes fluttered close. Men were visual creatures, delighted by the sight of their partner pleasuring them. The feeling of a hot, wet mouth enveloping them wasn't enough. Alone, a firm tongue sliding up and down their length- tasting, licking- didn't excite them to an agonizing degree. Undoubtedly, given enough time and encouragement, they would find blinding pleasure in their lover's arms, but it was nothing- _nothing_- when combined with the sheer sight of watching their lovemaking in action. It was the sight of their cock disappearing inch by excruciating inch into their lovers' mouth that made them groan from ecstasy. It was watching their partner sucking and teasing their arousal that heightened a man's pleasure beyond any measurable reason. Eyesight was essential in the art of love for men.

But China wasn't most men.

After living so long and experiencing all there was to experience, he's seen all there was too see, had more bed partners than he could remember. He didn't actively engage in sex not because he was a prude like the other nations thought, but because after indulging in it for millenniums he found it…well…boring.

There was only so much a person could try in bed before they tired of it. Men, women, receiving, or giving, they became all the same. Things he once found irresistible about them- their soft skin, their breathless cries- blurred with the passage of time. If one day Russia, for some godforsaken reason, were to ask him to name his favorite previous sex partner, China would be left speechless. Not even mentioning picking a person, he wouldn't even be able to remember who it was.

As callous as it seems, it wasn't as if China erased the memories of his lovers from his mind. Quite the opposite, he remembered them quite well and everyday he was reminded of them. A faint scent of jasmine in spring would make him remember his petite, but vivacious wife. Seeing a butterfly flutter by and the stolen kiss all those centuries ago would only seem like yesterday.

The memories China had of his lovers, none of it related back to the bedroom. It was a remembered smile, a forgotten warmth that brought him a sense of nostalgia and contentment. It wasn't the vision of beauty nor was it was the touch of carnal delight that accompanied him all these years. Even at times when the past eluded him and he couldn't recall a name or face, the fact that he once loved them remained unchanged. The memories may be gone, but his feelings for them stayed.

So he learned. He learned to shut his eyes and be blind to logic and sight. Depriving himself the image of Russia's sleek body kissing him, loving him, China allowed his other senses to take over. He became sensitized to every touch and breath upon his skin.

Russia…Russia became fire and ice rolled into one. It burned, the places where his hands roamed and his tongue lingered. From the heat or from the chill, China wasn't certain. He could only writhed beneath Russia's ministrations as the other nation went lower, closer to where he needed him most.

To his embarrassment, he arched his back, straining for Russia's merciful touch…then he remembered, when has Russia ever been merciful?

Purposely moving away from his arousal, the laughter of his cruel lover softly danced upon China's skin. His moans of disappointment soon turned into growls of irritation as Russia teased and nipped close by but never close enough to touch the aching cock.

"Ivan," China panted, digging his hand into the thick silver-blond hair. He tried to wordlessly lead the other man to soothe his frustration, but Russia simply continued to laugh.

"Yes?" Russia's amused voice was barely heard through the roar in China's head. His mind was preoccupied by Russia's warm breath as it tempted close before teasingly moving away again from his wet, perspiring body. Lips brushed by the base of the older man's cock. It showed China a quick glimpse of reckless, mind numbing pleasure; a promise of what's to come. Strung tight, it was enough to elicit another moan from him.

Russia shivered at the sweet sound of China's voice caressing down his body. It spoke of need and want. It was the sound a man lost in the heady sensation of lust and sex made. Russia sucked harder and loved the way China clung to him tighter and tighter; his nails digging into his skull.

"Ivan!" China hissed the name through his teeth.

"What's wrong, Yao?" Russia said with complete innocence, "Impatient for something?"

China cracked opened his eyes to smile down at the other man nestled between his legs. "Impatient? Me? Never," China calmly replied, "I'm just wondering what does sucking me off, aru, have to do with me being masculine?"

"Nothing," Russia purred, "I just want to punish you a bit for making me wait out in the heat. I almost died you know?"

By now, China was completely used to Russia tricking or even manhandling him into bed. He didn't even have the heart to scowl at him anymore. Besides, it was quite obvious to the both of them he was quite…_eager_ for the deed to be done. China rose up on his elbows and curiously gazed at the Russian. "If this is my punishment then does this mean I get to shave my hair once I go back home?"

Russia's eyes darkened into a deep magenta when he realized China had not forgotten his stupid idea of cutting his hair. "Why don't you wait a bit before you decide, hmm?"

With a bit of fascination (and forebodement), China watched Russia hover over the tip of his engorged shaft. "What is there to wait for? I've already decided to-_肏__你祖宗十八__代_!" China cursed as his cock was suddenly plunged into a hot, moist mouth. His hands curled into fists against the bed sheet; the unexpected pleasure almost unbearable for him. His eyes slammed shut once again as he helplessly thrust himself hard into Russia's delectable mouth, wanting to bury his entire length deep inside. With a happy little hum, Russia opened his mouth wider, accommodating China and taking more of him.

China could only stiffen his body at Russia's attentiveness to his cock. His tongue, his teeth, his lips- Russia was driving him insane with the different sensations. Licking. Sucking. China was drowning in it. If his past lovers had represented flowers and daintiness when he closed his eyes, all China could see was the virility and strength radiating from Russia. He was younger….No, that wasn't the right word. He was young enough to still find enthusiasm for sex. It was in this way that Russia was actually reintroducing to this age old nation the wonders of forming a bond through their bodies; the physical part of affection.

He was different from China. Different as day was from night, fire from water. He was big and China was small. His hair was fair as the snow upon his land and China was dark as the starless skies. Yin to Yang- complete opposites and yet the perfect compliment for one another. Russia's uniqueness, their differences intrigued China. It made him want the other nation and discover his secrets.

Once he allowed Russia passage into his home, the moment he had a taste of his exotic northern neighbor, there was no chance of escape. Russia's lying lips laid the trap and his cold, calculating eyes ensnared him. Like a spider and his web, China had been a willing victim caught by Russia's thin, silky thread and eaten a long, long time ago.

Of course China never told Russia that. Let him continue to think that their attraction to each other was unequal or even one sided. It was perhaps cruel, but it was the only way to keep Russia interested and chasing after him.

Russia cupped his sacs and began meticulously kneading them between his nimble fingers. China took a shuddering breath to calm the flames licking at his groin, but it was useless. Russia demanded all of his attention. A tongue pressed hard against the tip of his arousal; a hand- large and rough- gripped his length. Feeling every callus, every scar rub and press down on his wet, slick dick, a groan was ripped from China's chest as Russia began pumping his cock.

Unaware of blacking out from the intense pleasure, China found himself slowly descending back to earth. The scent of dust and musk assaulted him the moment he returned back to his body. The air in the room was thick and heavy. Humid. Hot. His hair, damp from his sweat, clung to his face and neck. China struggled to breathe through the suffocation. In the dim recess of his mind he heard a sound- a breathless panting. At first he couldn't place it, but he soon realized it was himself breathing hard.

But there was something else bothering him. Something else he couldn't identify. It sounded wet, like someone slurping or sucking on something….

China's eyes flew open. Without glancing down, the hot heat still enveloping him, making his legs quiver confirmed what Russia was doing to his body.

**TBC**

A/N:

_人妖__: I used "transvestite" in the story, but "ren yao" can also mean _freak, demon, goblin, devil, monster- anything along those lines.

_肏__你祖宗十八__代__!_: Fuck your ancestors to the eighteenth generation

Previously named Silken Thread, Be A Man, and Summer Days….I still can't think of a title for this OTL

I've been gone from the fanfic part of the fandom for quite a while so to new readers unfamiliar with my works, I take great liberty with characterizations. Please read my profile to understand a bit better about my stance on Yao and Ivan portrayal before commenting on how OOC they are.

WARNING: Starting next chapter, it will be **ChuRo. **


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